-
When Marisa and I were in our mid-twenties, we took what was then a relatively inexpensive trip to Fiji and Australia. You know the kind, the package deal, 9 days airfare and hotel for something like $900. The affordability was due to it being our summer and their winter but we didn’t know any better.
-
“I’m friends with the monster that’s under my bedGet along with the voices inside of my headYou’re tryin’ to save me, stop holdin’ your breathAnd you think I’m crazy, yeah, you think I’m crazy“ The Monster (song) by Eminem featuring Rihanna My dreaded annual physical awaits me as I sit on the flimsy, white-papered exam
-
I close my eyes in Pacific Beach, a scenic hamlet of San Diego, California, notorious for its laid-back surfer vibe and alcohol-fueled college bar scene. It’s my first night back in the United States in three years. At 45, I’ve temporarily moved into my mom’s upstairs studio apartment alongside her toilet paper and all the
-
“Hello,” she buzzes, conspiratorially sliding into the metal seat next to me. “I’m Monique. I’m here representing a trade association, but I’m on your company’s payroll.” We’re in French-speaking Geneva nestled between the snow-capped Alps and Lac Leman, delegates at a United Nations (UN) technology meeting. “Phew,” I exhale from behind my individual microphone, removing
-
I tread slowly crunching across the multicolored fall leaves of the sprawling university campus. I’m enroute to a surprise meeting at the sports psychologist’s office which conveniently sits inside of the daunting athletic complex of Division 1 NCAA sports. It smells faintly like baking bread outside from the local ethanol plant which helps fuel the
-
My half-clothed mom places a steaming coffee next to my bedside in our Busan Korea hotel room. She has been hiding out in the bathroom for the past hour trying not to wake me until 6:00am when the gym opens. Cardio is her sacred early morning ritual. ‘Don’t talk to me before my exercise,’
-
I spot him from afar, coaching a private lesson on the beachside soccer field as I pull my white mini-SUV into the gravel parking lot, spraying up tiny rocks with my entrance. Spanish reggaeton music blares from my stereo, and I bounce out of the car, my endorphins and confidence high after an energetic spin
-
Previously I didn’t subscribe to faith. My mother is atheist and judges those who believe in God. Coming of age in the 50s in rural Minnesota, she attended parochial school and with it, an hour of excruciatingly boring mass in Latin each day from kindergarten through college. Worse than Church was the corporeal punishment doled
-
Morning affirmation: I seek guides in my life and realize they may be different than I anticipate. Step 2: Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity “Here. Take my phone. Type in your number. Then call yourself,” directs the no-nonsense eclectic fashionista. She is younger than me, roughly ten
-
I awake with a queasy feeling in my stomach. It’s my last day in Eugene and my final opportunity to attempt meeting one of my heroes, Ken Kesey. While it seems like a gesture his adventurous nature might appreciate, now I’m chickening out. What am I going to say and do? Knock on his door
List of posts
About Me
A satellite industry vice president by day and amateur astrologer by night, I enjoy writing creatively about my life.
Recent Posts
Newsletter
Mess by Molly 